Chapter 4: A New Home

Feb 2, 1857

I was back out with Dawn hunting again this morning. Everyone was surprised last night when my brothers managed to return before supper with a deer. Listening to them brag about their hunting success had me on the verge of tears trying to keep from laughing. I noticed amused looks on everyone else’s faces, too. It was nearly an hour later before my brothers even heard about the gun battle. They were once again sullen after hearing that.

Despite the early morning drizzle, Dawn and I managed two wild pigs and two deer today and were glad that we had started taking six mules with us. Once we left the loaded mules with the moving wagons, we were off again. They told us they would take a longer lunch today to deal with the two pigs. Mom said that my brothers went out hunting again today.

Later that afternoon I went to check out a small trail that led away from the road, hoping to find a campsite for the night. Instead, I found four wagons hidden in the trees half a mile from the road with the bodies of ten men strewn around the small clearing. Whoever robbed them didn’t take their clothing, but took their weapons and livestock. They even emptied a money belt one of the men wore, although they left the empty belt. They had left the tack for the wagons lying where it fell when the animals were unhitched.

All four wagons were loaded with coal. I was glad coal was difficult to start burning when I saw the partially burned tarps covering the wagons.

My two shrill whistles that meant “come” and “danger” brought Dawn a couple minutes later. Once she knew I was safe, she helped me move the bodies much farther away from the clearing. There had been enough rain today that it was impossible to tell how many attackers there had been or even which way they went. For a minute, I thought that the men who attacked us yesterday might have done this, but they were coming from the wrong direction. The condition of the bodies made me think that this had happened this morning while the dead men were hitching their animals to the four wagons, preparing for the day’s travel.

When the rest of our wagons arrived, we buried the men. Since they hadn’t attacked us, we buried them in their clothing. The men in our wagon train determined that the wagons were drivable, but thought the coal would have to dry out before we could burn it.

The rest of the trip to Independence was rainy and miserable with occasional snowfall. We even had one day with hail thrown in for good measure. The road was muddy but had been compacted enough that it only slowed us down by a day or so. My brothers began hunting every day, despite the foul weather, so Dawn and I cut back on how much we brought back.

When the wagons caught up with us each evening, we had firewood ready, although we had to use dry kindling and firewood from the cooking wagon to start the fires. Even then, it was difficult to start if it was still raining. My wives started dragging both Dawn and me into the wagon as soon as the wagons arrived. They stripped us down, and then dog piled onto us to warm us up with their body heat. Whoever was driving our wagon would take care of unhitching my six draft horses. Once we were warm, and after a lot of good-natured complaining from Penny and my wives about how cold they were now, Dawn and I dressed in dry clothes and rejoined everyone else.

I learned that the women had bought more canvas in St. Louis, and they began erecting awnings over the rear of the wagons in the evening so we could sit outside the wagons to eat without getting soaked. They also covered the coal loosely even though it was already wet. One of the drivers commented that coal must hold a lot of water, because the wagon was extremely heavy. The other three drivers agreed. Who would have known?

Feb 12

The weather must have sensed our mood because the rain broke and the sun came out. A rainbow framed our first view of Independence this morning.

Everyone not driving was out of the wagons as we rode into town. Mima claimed her favorite seat, in front of me as I rode Lightning. What I thought was Independence turned out to be Independence and Kansas City. The Kansas part of Kansas City was across the river from the Missouri part of Kansas City--strange. You’d think they’d call it Missouri City, although I guess there was already a city by that name. Several people who saw us told us that there were places across the river where wagons gathered before beginning the trip to California or Oregon.

They warned us to be careful, as those people had been there since last May, having missed the last wagon trains west, and were now desperate for food. When they learned that we were continuing to Council Bluffs, they directed us to places north of the city to spend the night.

Once we had the mules and horses unhitched, we all sat soaking up the sunshine, glad for a respite from the rain of the last several days. The women didn’t even want to go into the city to shop, at least not today. We heard that the trip north should take about two weeks.

”Two weeks and we’ll be at our new home,” I thought excitedly. I couldn’t imagine how tired of travel the people who went to California and Oregon had to be by the time they got there.

Feb 13

The women did go shopping today and bought surprisingly little, mostly food. I, on the other hand, went crazy. I found twelve of the repeating rifles, nine more shotguns, six of the S&W revolvers, and fourteen more Navy Colt revolvers, plus more ammunition. I sold off the older rifles and revolvers.

Then I saw a strange plow at a feed and grain store. The man explained that it was a new, steel plow designed to till the prairie soil, cutting through the thick tangle of roots of the prairie grass. Older wooden plows broke quickly out here, and old iron plows required stopping every few feet to clean off the soil sticking to them. I bought all six of his plows. I also bought seeds for apple, peach, pear, and plum trees, as well as for blackberries and blueberries. I even grabbed several sacks of potatoes when he told me they would grow near Council Bluffs.

While I was shopping, Dad took the coal to the docks to sell. A company that provided firewood and coal for the steamboats was happy to buy it, and quickly had all four wagons empty. That was when Dad discovered what was making the wagons so heavy. Under the coal was a carefully constructed false bottom. Once they were away from the docks, he peeked beneath the boards and nearly shit himself. Each wagon carried a mix of gold, silver, copper, and lead ingots hidden beneath the false bottom.

The men who had attacked probably did so thinking the wagons carried gold and became discouraged when they only found coal. I had to admit, it was an ingenious way to hide the valuables; it fooled the robbers and it fooled us. Dad quickly replaced the false bottom and led the four wagons to our campsite. It was a good thing that I was sitting down when he told me.

That evening, we installed new hoops and covers on the four coal wagons, and loaded them with the plows and potatoes, adding the women’s purchases when they returned.

Feb 14

While everyone else enjoyed another leisure day of sun, I took the first ferry of the morning across the Missouri River and rode out to visit as many wagons as I could. Dad and Mr. Wilkes went with me, along with Emma. We visited forty-five families before dark, talking with them to see if we could get a feel for the type of people they were. Using covert hand signs, we voted on each family as to whether or not to invite them to join us. One no vote vetoed the entire family.

We already planned for the four of us to spend the night in a hotel on the Kansas side of the river. Tomorrow morning, we would ferry any families deciding to join us back across the river. Of the forty-five families, we invited twenty-seven, and all but three of those accepted our invitation. Their only other choice was to starve to death over the next two months or pray that they found enough game, or found a job, which wasn’t likely.

Feb 15

Once the families were across the river this morning, we bought simple food they could eat right away. An hour later, we arrived in camp where a huge breakfast awaited them. Dad had taken the first ferry this morning and warned them about how many people would be joining us. I was surprised when the three families who originally declined our offer showed up later in the day. They apologized but didn’t want us to think they were taking charity. I promised them that they would be working hard enough in a couple of weeks that they wouldn’t even be able to think about charity.

The women made one last trip into town for more food, and we planned to leave the next morning. At Dad’s suggestion, we loaded a good portion of our new food stores into the four coal wagons under the guise of more evenly distributing the load among the wagons.

Feb 16

I watched in amazement as our wagon train moved out in the morning. Once again, we had doubled in size, now numbering more than forty wagons. We really did have a legitimate wagon train. Once the last wagon was moving, Dawn, Penny, my wives, and I rode to catch up with the lead wagon. I nodded at Mingo as we rode by our wagon, which was the lead wagon. Mima waved excitedly at me. For some reason, Mingo took it upon himself to drive our wagon each day.

We followed the road as it led north or northwest. This road was in better condition than the one from St. Louis to Independence and we made good time, reaching the outskirts of St. Joseph after only three days. There were enough people and settlements along the river that we only managed three deer in the three days. My brothers were beaming the day they shot a deer, and Dawn and I found nothing.

We also had a chance to get to know the families that had joined us in Kansas City. I overheard bits and pieces of the story of our trip so far retold several times, and by several different people. By the time we got to St. Joseph, I was sure the people from Kansas City would all stay and help, and not take off at the first chance.

Feb. 19

St. Joseph was as big as Independence and Kansas City combined. Since I heard in Kansas City that Council Bluffs was only half the size of Independence, I decided to buy more plows if I could find them. I had to go to several different stores, but finally found twenty-two of the new plows. These were even better than the ones from Kansas City as these had three blades on each plow instead of a single blade like the ones from Kansas City.

Naturally, I bought the repeating rifles, S&W revolvers, and Navy Colt revolvers I found. I also bought plenty of ammunition to train everyone how to use them, and, if we had to, still fight a small war afterwards. The roving bands of bandits in Missouri scared me, and I wanted to be ready if we ran into the same thing in Iowa. It was only through luck that none of us had been hurt in the two attacks.

When I finished buying everything else, I found the last items I was looking for--wedding bands for Flo and Madison, as well as a gold necklace with a locket similar to the ones I bought for everyone at Christmas. I even found four more boxes of beads for Dawn to show my appreciation for all the hours she had spent hunting and scouting with me, not to mention her leadership at the first battle in Missouri.

This time, even Dawn shed a tear when I thanked her in front of everyone and gave her the beads. Everyone else applauded. I gave my wives their gifts privately and they rewarded me privately.

Feb. 20

We were all excited when we pulled out this morning. The road was clearly marked and in good condition. There were clouds in the sky, but Dawn said it wouldn’t rain. We found one deer that we returned with before venturing out again. There were fewer farms and settlements once we were away from the city, but there was still little game aside from rabbits and birds.

We had a little rain on the third day, but it only lasted for an hour. The farther north we went, the better the hunting became. My brothers even came back with two deer one afternoon. Each evening, I could feel my excitement growing as we drew closer to our destination.

Feb 25

COUNCIL BLUFFS

Mid-afternoon, I stood in my stirrups and shouted at the top of my lungs as I looked down on Council Bluffs. Even as I shouted my enthusiasm, I noted with a heavy heart that the area wasn’t anything like what I had envisioned. I had pictured endless miles of lush, green prairie spreading east from the Missouri river.

The reality was a far cry from my vision. A narrow band along the river north and south of the city was under cultivation, although it wasn’t planted right now. To the immediate east of the city was hilly land. It was covered sparsely by what appeared to be a sickly, thinly populated forest. The complete lack of agriculture east of the city was proof enough that the land wasn’t suitable for growing crops.

The good news was that the opposite side of the river had a city nearly the same size as Council Bluffs. The land there was much closer to what I had pictured. It included what I would later learn was the Saratoga Bend of the Missouri River. There was a small town by the same name, one where many steamboats stopped.

Dawn obviously saw the disappointment on my face and saw where I was looking across the river. “Much better land,” she agreed, pointing to where I was looking.

“Yup,” I answered succinctly, and aimed my horse south towards the campsite that we’d chosen a mile back down the road. I figured we would make our grand entrance into Council Bluffs in the morning.

When the wagons arrived, I warned everyone about what I saw, and it put an obvious damper on what should have been an ebullient mood. Still, the relief that our journey was nearly over was palpable. My wives and I held our own private celebration before falling asleep.

Feb. 26

Our grand entrance into Council Bluffs was much subdued after everyone saw for themselves what I had seen the previous afternoon. The people we questioned in town agreed with my original assessment, including casting our lot in with the new city of Omaha across the river. The only downside was that Nebraska was still a territory, but we could live with that. By mid-afternoon, we had ferried over to Omaha and camped out just north of the city.

After sending five groups of men out in pairs to scout the area I’d pointed out from a rise above Council Bluffs, I had my parents, Emma’s parents, my wives, Penny, Tom and Dawn, and Mingo join me. We took the four wagons with the ingots in them, as well as my parent’s wagon and my family’s wagon, to a rise where we could see for more than a mile in every direction. Dad told everyone what he had discovered in the wagons. After everyone was breathing again, we proceeded to unload the goods hiding the false bottom in the first wagon.

We found a layer of wet cotton cushioning the top of the ingots, and another layer below them to keep them from rattling. Each ingot was stamped “10 lb.” The first wagon had five hundred pounds each of gold, silver, copper, and lead stashed in the false bottom.

We removed the gold and stashed it in my parent’s wagon, and then proceeded with the second wagon. The goods from the second wagon were loaded into the first, and we pulled up the false bottom.

When we were finished with all four wagons, we had found that each wagon was packed with five hundred pounds each of the four metals. Dad suggested it was that way so that losing one wagon would only mean losing a quarter of the more expensive metals. Losing the wagon with gold if it had all been on one wagon would have been devastating.

That left us with two thousand pounds each of gold, silver, copper, and lead. Mr. Wilkes did some calculations and thought the gold was worth over five hundred thousand dollars, depending on how pure it was. I had to sit down before my legs gave out. It was close.

“Does anyone want to guess how much land is going for here?” I asked. Nobody knew, and suggested talking to someone in town, as well as a few of the farmers scattered around the area we were looking at. Dad suggested talking to Mr. Franklin since he managed one of the banks in town back home.

We split the gold between my wagon and my parent’s wagon. One of the wagons with ingots had been mostly emptied of ingots, the remaining ingots having been transferred into the other three wagons. After refilling the final wagon with the goods we had removed so we could access the false bottoms, we headed back to camp.

We found Mr. Franklin and asked his opinion about the price of the land here. “With the collapse of the economy, it should be pretty darn cheap. I saw entire farms sold for ten dollars. People can’t afford to pay off their notes and the banks had to foreclose, and then sell the property for whatever someone offered. They’re desperate to sell because nobody is buying,” he explained.

That was definitely encouraging. I was so excited that I could hardly eat dinner, but had no problem scratching my wives’ itch before going to sleep.

Feb 27

In the morning, everyone was assigned to a work crew. One crew would roughly lay out a small town. The streets would be extra wide, as would the lots. Once we got enough lumber, we would begin building houses. Meanwhile, several work crews were to cut trees from along the river to make a temporary corral for our livestock, especially the pigs; I still couldn’t believe they all survived the trip.

Other crews began cutting down trees to build two barns. The first would be to store the supplies remaining from our trek, emptying the wagons so they could be used for other things and to make sleeping in them more comfortable. The second barn would be for the livestock. I hoped we would be able to buy enough lumber that we didn’t have to build everything with logs.

Dad, Mr. Franklin, Mr. Wilkes, and I took the two wagons with the gold ingots into town. We were lucky because Omaha was the capital of the Nebraska Territory, so we didn’t have to go far to find the land office.

The poor clerk nearly passed out when we told him what we wanted, and had to find the town dignitaries, including the Territorial Governor William Alexander Richardson. When Mr. Franklin explained how much land we wanted to buy, there was an audible gasp from nearly everyone in the room. Their first concern was to ensure that we would NOT be using slaves. Dad assured them that the Negroes with us were all free men and women, here of their own volition, and we would pay them a fair wage to work for us.

Then the politicians began doing what they do so well. They tried to make us pay much more than we should have. After listening to the bickering for half an hour, I stood up. “I’m sorry that we wasted your time, gentlemen. Given what I was led to believe about the sad state of the economy, I thought you would be happy to sell us the land at a reasonable price. After all, we will be hiring hundreds of workers, including probably every able-bodied man in Omaha who is currently out of work.

“In addition, we would be purchasing hundreds of wagon loads of construction material, supplies, and whatever else the women decide we need. I guess we need to go back to Kansas City. That’s the most likely spot for the railroad to the west to begin, and they didn’t try to overcharge us for the land,” I lied with a dramatic sigh as I turned for the door. Dad and Mr. Franklin followed me.